


Whatever It Takes

by TheDarknessWithinYou



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Parent/Child Incest, Sick Sitles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessWithinYou/pseuds/TheDarknessWithinYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles gets sick his father will do whatever it takes to not lose him, even the one thing no father should ever have to.</p><p>**READ TAGS**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

More than anything in his life John doesn’t want this, but it’s not his choice, not his life on the line if he gives up. It’s Stiles’, his choice and his life, and he’s the only person in the world he loves enough to do this for no matter how much his skin crawls and the voice in the back of his mind, sounding a lot like his late wife, screams at him, begging him to find another way.

There isn’t though, another way. He knows this, it’s the only reason Stiles came to him in the end. Stiles didn’t even tell him when he got sick, his son hid it from him for months. It wasn’t until he found a cure that Stiles even told John he was dying. John still remembers the conversation, the punch to the stomach when he found out he was losing his son to the same disease that stole his wife from him. He doesn’t really know if the next words out of his son’s mouth were any better. 

Stiles wouldn’t look him in the eye as he told his father about the spell he had found. John stared at his hands on the kitchen table as Stiles told him about a purity ritual, the virgin sacrifice combined with the seed of the father. The completed ritual would purge all disease and impurity from the participants. Stiles stopped talking and minutes passed before John looked up at his son. His son, his child, had tears running down his face, his arms wrapped around his center.

“I don’t want to die, Dad,” his son choked out on a broken sob. John was out of his chair and had his son in his arms before he knew he was moving.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, Stiles. You’re not leaving me. Not now, son,” John whispered as he cradled his son in his arms like he had when Stiles was just a child realizing his mother wasn’t ever coming home again. 

The next week was spent going over the ritual. John took a leave of absence from work, called Stiles out of school, and his days were filled with ancient books and his son’s inane chatter. Stiles walked him through his part, everything he could and couldn’t do. Neither Stiles or John were allowed any ‘mind or body altering’ substances meaning no little blue pills, no liquid courage. The entire ritual they had to keep their minds on each other and their wishes for health, any wandering thoughts could ruin the whole thing and Stiles would still die within the year.

The nights were the worst. During the day there were distractions, but laying in bed in his quiet home with only his thoughts to keep him company John questioned what he was doing. He would never say it out loud, but sometimes he thought maybe it would be better for Stiles do die peacefully rather than live with what they were about to do. Other nights he would lay there wondering if he could even do it, not only morally, but physically. Would he be able to perform, to get an erection thinking about only his son as required by the ritual. Objectively he knew he had a good looking kid, but he had never looked at his son in a sexual way and never imagined a day when he would have to. 

The day of the ritual arrived and John was sitting in their living room, his head dropped in his hands. The man’s fingers gripped his still slightly damp from his shower hair and he listened to his son ready John’s bedroom for the ritual. They had discussed renting a hotel room, but they would have had to leave town and neither of them wanted to do that. So it was John had to choose between devirginizing his son in his childhood bed or in his own marital bed. In the end he decided his own room would probably scar them both less. 

John knew his part backward and forward. It was quite simple really, all things considered. Stiles had the difficult part, being the only with the magic to make it work. All John had to do was make sure he kept his mind on his son and use the special lubricant that Stiles had made for the ritual. John’s own peace of mind weighed on him. He was going to be the first person to touch his son, to introduce him to his body. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. He loved his son and he would make this good for him. On those sleepless nights he had researched gay sex and watched a fair amount of pornography to make sure he knew what he could to bring his son pleasure.

“Dad!” His son’s voice called down lightly. “I’m- It’s ready.”

John breathed deep, gathering his courage and stood from the couch walking steadily up the stairs. Flickering light could be seen from his half open door and John pushed it open taking in the sight that awaited him. Tapered candles in all the right colors, smouldering herbs lightly smoking in gleaming metal dishes. Stiles stood at the foot of the bed, rubbing the edge of his t-shirt with his fingers. John didn’t stop walking until he was in front of his son. He placed his hands on the teen’s shoulders, feeling the tension both in his son and the room.

“Are you going to hate me?” Stiles whispered.

John’s hand slid up to cup Stiles’ head and tilt him so he could see the fear in his eyes. “Son, I love you more than life itself. I’m just glad that there is something I can do to save you. I know this isn’t what either of us wanted, but everything is going to be alright. I’m going to take care of you, just like I always have. Alright?”

Stiles nodded, but didn’t speak. John just smiled slightly to reassure his son and leaned in to press their lips together. Stiles tensed even further but John kept the kiss light, not backing away until his son tentatively began to move his lips back. John kept the kiss chaste, but moved in closer. One hand stayed on the back of his son’s neck the other fell to the teens waist as they continued to kiss.

It was awkward and unfamiliar, but at the same time nice and pleasent. It had been a long time since John had held someone like this and his son felt nice in his arms. John felt Stiles’ arms flail like he didn’t know where to place them. He smiled against his son’s lips and grabbed his wrists and placed his son’s arms around his neck before returning his own hands to the teen’s waist. 

They stood like that for long moments, getting used to each other before John deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue out to taste his son’s bottom lip. Stiles squeaked but didn’t move back so John continued until his son opened up, allowing him entrance. The kiss steadily turned dirtier as John used all the tricks learned in his youth to tease his son. Feeling more turned on than he would have guessed, John gripped Stiles’ hips tightly dragging the boy closer until their bodies crashed together. Stiles moaned against him, his fingers digging into his father’s hair roughly. The teen’s hips rocked of their own accord grinding his hardening dick against his father’s thigh. Stiles gasped at the feeling and broke away from John’s mouth with a whimper.

Not losing any momentum John attacked the pale flesh at Stiles’ neck as the teen panted in his ear. John sucked marks into Stiles’ neck as the boy continued to grind into his thigh for friction. John began backing Stiles up to the bed until they were right at the edge. He mouthed at his son’s neck, hands dropping to the edge of Stiles’ shirt and tugging until Stiles got the message and allowed father to pull it off. John’s mind flashed to all those years ago removing his son’s shirt in much the same way before tucking him into bed. The man shut those thoughts down fast before they could catch hold. Instead he let his hands roam over the revealed pale skin dotted with moles.

John wedged his leg between his son’s, giving him something to thrust against. Stiles’ hands crept under his father’s shirt, his long fingers digging into the muscle in the man’s back as he rocked into him. John stopped nibbling on his son’s collarbone long enough to push him down on the bed before pulling his shirt over his head. Before the shirt was even gone he could feel Stiles’ hands working on his belt and sucked in a breath when the teen grazed his almost completely hard cock. 

As soon as he was free of the shirt his hand dropped down to Stiles’ head and he watched him fumble his pants open. Fuck, this was way easier than it should have been. He almost felt guilty for how much he wanted his son’s hands on him. When Stiles finally got the pants open he wasted no times in wrestling them down his fathers thighs. John suppressed a groan at seeing his son eye to eye with his dick, but couldn’t stop the twitch in his prick as more blood flowed to the area.

Stiles smirked up at his father, as if proud that he turned his dad on so much. John was glad to find himself not the only one enjoying this far more than expected. His son’s pupils were blown wide as he raised a hand to grasp the cock steadily rising in his face. John didn’t bother to hide his moan at the feeling of his son’s long fingers trailing along his shaft. He wanted his son to know just how good he was making him feel. 

When Stiles made to move his head forward with intent, John tightened his hand in the boy’s hair stilling him. “You don’t have to,” John murmured quietly, not wanting to break the mood, but not wanting his son to do anything he doesn’t want to. 

“I know,” Stiles whispered back, his hot breath ghosting over the cock before his lips, before running his tongue under the head of John’s prick. His father groans, but doesn’t move an inch. This is Stiles’ first time and he isn’t going to rush his boy, no matter how maddeningly he works his tongue over his now red and aching dick. By the time Stiles actually takes John into his mouth the man is almost whimpering with need. Stiles has this look of concentration on his face that John has seen many times. Its the look his son gets when he puts his mind to learning something, and John’s not sure he will survive it. 

Stiles is bobbing his head, slurping around John’s cock sounding completely obscene when John has to stop his son. As much as he wants to let him learn and have a good time, anymore and John is going to pour himself down his boys throat and this will all be for nothing. His son has the worst oral fixation and doesn’t want to let John’s cock out of his mouth, leaning with John as he pulls away, trying to keep his new toy. John chuckles at his son’s antics, but pushes the boy back on the bed. 

His son falls back on his elbows, looking up at his father silently asking what’s next. John kicks off his pants, leaving himself completely bare and leans down to capture his son’s lips again, using his tongue to chase away any insecurity. John’s hands fall down his son’s lean chest to his narrow waist, unbuttoning his jeans even as his mouth follow the same path his hands took. He stops, licks at his nipples, catching one lightly between his teeth causing Stiles to arch up into his father’s mouth. 

John licks and nips down Stiles’ stomach until he get’s to his son’s happy trail and the top of the top opened jeans. He raises his eyes up to meet his son’s for permission, which he gets if Stiles’ frantic nodding is anything to go by. John hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly lowers the jeans revealing his son’s body to him for the first time is years. Again a flash of taking care of his son, washing and dressing his baby boy, flashes in John’s mind but is pushed away. He pushes the jeans all the way down and off his son until the teen is bared to him.

Stiles legs fall over the edge of the bed, his ass right on the edge, exactly where John wants him. The man lowers himself to his knees in between his son’s legs as Stiles watches with wide eyes. John smiles at his son before proceeding to put everything he learned in the last week of research to use on his boy. Stiles doesn’t seem to have the ability to still his hips as he tries fuck his father’s face and John only pulls back enough to keep him from gagging on his boy’s cock. Stiles’ breathy moans and whispered “Dad”s are going right to John’s prick. He’s dripping pre-come onto the carpet as he let’s Stiles prick fall out of his mouth and moves further down to mouth and lick at his sparsely covered balls.

Thinking of one of the things he researched, but never even considered using before now, John heads further back. He watches Stiles face as he licks firmly over the virgin pucker.

“Dad!” Stiles yelps.

John grins into his son’s thigh, then moves back in getting the tiny hole sloppy wet with his spit before spearing his tongue inside. It’s not long before Stiles is pushing into his face, grinding on his tongue trying to get him deeper. His son grabs John’s head pushing him harder and John’s grabs Stiles’ legs pushing them up to the boys chest then pushing them wide, baring the small pink hole to him. John dives in, loving the feel of his son squirming under his ministrations. When he is sure his son is wet, John slowly adds a finger along his tongue and Stiles stills for a minute adjusting to the feel while John searches for the spot he read all about. 

When he finds his son’s prostate, Stiles almost shrieks. John is scared he hurt his son for a moment, but he hears his son chanting “Please. Oh, god, do it again. Please, dad. Again.” and aims for the spot again. He adds another finger and Stiles starts to fuck himself on his hand, but it’s getting dry so John removes his fingers ignoring the resulting whine. 

“Where is the lube, Stiles?” John asks. Stiles scrambles up the bed to the side table and John follows him. Stiles hands his father small white bowl of a thick green translucent gel. As John coats his fingers Stiles settles back against the pillows, his legs on either side of his father. The man lowers himself over his son, kissing the boy as he replaces his fingers inside him. The third finger is more difficult, but his son takes it eagerly whimpering into the kiss, pressing his ass back into his father’s hand as he thrusts his fingers in and out faster and faster.

Stiles is loose, ready for his cock, and they both know it. This is the moment that the ritual starts, everything else was John wanting to make this good for his boy. John lets his mind fill with thoughts about his son’s health, his own health, how much he loves his son and how much he needs him to live while he coats his dick with the green gel. They are saving his son’s life and no matter how great this feels nothing will feel better than having his son by his side for years to come.

Stiles reaches and grabs John’s clean hand, tangling their fingers together. John is thankful for the life line as he presses the head of his cock to Stiles’ stretched and shiny rim. He meets his son’s eyes as he penetrates him. Stiles eyes are wide, his mouth open as John enters him. John can’t resist and kisses the boy again, thrusting forward in small spurts. Stiles is so tight around him, better than anything he has ever felt. When their hips meet finally, John stills, buried inside his son’s ass. He drops his head to Stiles’ shoulder as he keeps himself from thrusting until Stiles’ is ready. 

“Dad…” Stiles whines.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, son,” John assures him as he begins to thrust, slowly, trying to angle his hips to his son’s spot. Their hands are still tangled together near Stiles’ head and John is pressing kisses to any skin he can reach. It’s good, so good. Better than it has any right to be. John gives into Stiles pleading of “Faster. Harder. Please, Daddy,” and begins to piston in and out of his son. 

John reaches between them to work his son’s cock in time to his thrusts. Stiles is breathing hot and heavy in his ear and he moves, faster and harder like he was begged. John gets his knees under him, raising off Stiles. He’s staring into his boy’s face as he begins to fall apart under him.  
“Dad. Oh, god. It’s- I’m-” and that’s all the warning John gets before Stiles is shooting all over their chests and clamping down on his cock like a vice. John doesn’t have a moment before his own orgasm hits him, coating his son’s channel as the Stiles’ spasms wring his come out of him until there is nothing left. 

As much as John wants to just collapse and stay inside Stiles forever, the ritual must be completed. He carefully pulls his softening prick out of the wet and sloppy hole. Stiles is already coming back to himself and scooping up the come off his chest, sliding his coated fingers into his own ass to gather what his father left. John watches his son as he flits through the room, following the book to the letter. When the last step is completed a breeze blows through the room blowing out all of the ritual candles. 

A weight falls off John’s chest. It worked, he knows it did. Stiles is going to live. Father and son lock eyes and John’s own grin is reflected on Stiles’ face. The teen whoops for joy and runs, pouncing on his father still laying on the bed. John laughs, hugs his son close, then kisses them both breathless. When Stiles pushes John back into the bed, straddling his fathers waist John doesn’t think about the fact he hasn’t gotten hard twice in one night since his twenties, he just enjoys watching his son lower himself onto his renewed erection. He opens his mouth to Stiles persistent tongue and just loses himself in both of them being alive and well.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s been a year since John woke up naked with his son in his arms and a smile on his face. After that night the awkwardness in their relationship had been swallowed up by the sheer joy that Stiles was going to live. It only took them the day to figure out that Stiles didn’t need his Adderall anymore and that John was healthier than he had been in decades. He felt like he was in the prime of his life again and Stiles was not only excited for his own health but for his dad’s as well. Unfortunately for John, Stiles took this as an opportunity to make sure his father stayed healthy and cracked down on his diet.

 

Right now John was cooking dinner for his son. Stiles was coming home from college for the summer. He was so proud of Stiles for getting into college even with his attention problems and whole werewolves thing, but he couldn’t deny he missed him like a phantom limb. For the summer months leading up to his leaving for school they had spent everyday together that they could. Father son bonding time they called it, but John knew that something had happened that night that had drawn them closer than they were ever supposed to be. 

They never touched each other again after that morning, not in that way at least. There were lingering fingers, quickly hidden longing looks but they never broached the subject. John wanted his son to live a happy life and he didn’t want their one night to ruin the boy’s life. He was his son’s first and absolutely convinced that once Stiles got out a little, met someone his own age, the boy would get over their one night quickly. John knew it wouldn’t be so easy for him, but his son’s happiness was more important than his own.

Stiles certainly lived up to what John had expected him to. Everytime Stiles came home from college he had a new boyfriend for his father to meet. John hated every one of them on sight. He didn’t say anything though, knowing it was his own jealousy that burned when he saw those men touching or kissing his son. He played the protective Sheriff father role perfectly, kept the possessive former lover role at bay. Stiles had moved on as John had wanted him to, as he deserved to, John just hadn’t expected it to ache so much.

It was funny looking back on that week leading up to the ritual now. John snorted as he placed the roast in the oven. Had he actually considered he might not be able to get it up? Might not be able to see his son in a sexual way? The idea seemed laughable now that he woke up at least once a week with sticky sheets and the memory of Stiles hips under his fingers. He hadn’t had to wash his laundry this often since he was a teenager. The shame and guilt was the same as back then as well. Stiles had moved on, why couldn’t John?

He had tried, God he had tried. He had went on a few dates with a couple of the women around town who had been trying to get his attention for some time, but nothing ever went past a second date. John even drove a few hours to go to a gay bar far from where any word could get back to town. John is ashamed to admit it wasn’t long before he was coming down the throat of some pale skinned, dark hair young thing within an hour. The man was out the door before the slap even registered to John’s cheek. Turns out men don’t like being called someone else’s name any more than women.  
As a last resort to shame himself into getting on with his life, John sat down and watched home movies from when Stiles was a child. John tickling his belly as the baby just laughed and laughed, his wife’s hands shaky on the camera as she laughed with him. John chasing a naked and sudsy Stiles down the hall when the kid made an escape from the bath. Stiles sitting on his mother’s lap as she read to him from a book of fairy tales.

It should have been enough for John to accept that this was his son. Saving his live was one thing, but desiring him completely unnecessarily was wrong. But no matter how many videos he watched, when he closed his eyes the sight of watching Stiles straddle his hips and sink down on his cock was burned into his mind. The love for his son had transformed into the love for his lover. Not erased it all all, just added to it.

The front door slammed shut loudly in the always too quiet house and John had just enough time to turn from the oven to be hit by a blur. John laughed with joy as his son wrapped himself around him. The man clutched Stiles just as tight, feeling the warmth soak into him. God, he had missed his boy.

“I missed you so much, Dad,” Stiles said, his voice mumbled where he talked into John’s neck sending shivers through the man. Not wanting Stiles to know how he still felt, John laughed and reluctantly disentangled himself from his octopus of a son.

“You were home just a few months ago for Spring Break with Tony,” John chuckled as he looked away from his son and busied himself with making a salad. “How is Tony anyway?” John asked, keeping his voice light.

Long arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt the heat of his son settle in behind him. John’s hands stilled on the salad as he just felt for a moment. His son was his height now he noticed as the teen rested his chin on his father’s shoulder pressing his entire front to John’s back. John groaned as he felt Stiles soft prick against his ass. Stiles’ arms tightened around his Dad’s waist. 

“Dad, I tried. I really did,” Stiles whispered. “I know you want to let it go, but I can’t.”

“Stiles. We can’t. I thought you had moved on,” John whispered back, unwilling to believe this was happening. Any moment now Stiles would come home and break John out of this fantasy.

“I tried! But I don’t want any of them! I want you. Only you. Don’t you want me?” Stiles whispered brokenly, his arms already loosening their hold as if afraid of John’s answer.

John’s hands dropped the knife and cucumber of their own volition. He spun in his son’s arms, hands coming up to cup his son’s face. “Of course I want you! How could I not? You’re perfect, son. It killed me seeing you with those other men. I just want you to be happy, but you won’t be. Not with me.”  
“Why not? Why can’t we. No one else needs to know. I can just be the guy who never grew up and moved away from home,” Stiles pleaded, his beautiful eyes wide with yearning.

“And your friends? Stiles they’re werewolves. They will know,” John pointed out.

Stiles’ face flushed red, John could feel the heat in his palms where they cupped his face. “Uh. Dad?”

“Stiles?” John drawled out.

“They kind-of-already-know.”

John groaned and dropped his hands. “How? Why haven’t I been fired and arrested yet?”

“Dad! You’re not going to be arrested, they wouldn’t do that. I mean some of them aren’t really comfortable about it, but it’s not like it’s the weirdest thing around. And as for how they knew, I had to borrow the books from Derek and Peter. Then afterwards they could just smell it every time I got hard around you. I thought it was just me, but Scotty told me that it was both of us. Now that was an awkward conversation.”

“Hmm. I bet,” John grinned. “You got an erection from being around me?”

“Dad, I couldn’t even get off with any of my boyfriends without thinking about you. They all thought I liked to call them Daddy,” Stiles giggled.

John leaned back against the counted and hooked his finger in Stiles’ belt loop, pulling him in closer. “I might have been slapped a couple of times for saying your name. One guy actually had a pretty good left hook,” John admitted.

“You slept with other guys!” Stiles accused indignantly.

“Stiles. I was trying to convince myself to let you go. I thought you had moved on and didn’t want to hurt you by wanting something I couldn’t have. None of them were as beautiful” John kissed his son’s neck, “as smart,” nipped a mole on Stiles’ ear, “as perfect as you,” John finished as he touched his lips to Stiles’ own for the first time in over a year. 

Stiles groaned. “Damn, your smooth.”

“Stiles,” John murmured against Stiles’ lips.

“Yeah, Dad?” Stiles asked, distracted by the hand trailing down his back and over his ass.

“I want you inside me the next time. I’ve been dreaming of it for months.”

Stiles gasped, his hips thrusting forward into his father, nodding frantically.

“Now. Please now,” Stiles pleaded pulling his father by the arm up.

\---2 Hours Later---

Scott walked up the the Stilinski house drawn in by the smell of cooking meat. The house was quiet as he opened the door and called out for Stiles to receive no answer. The living room looked like a tornado hit it. Pictures tilted on the walls, tables knocked over. Scott was immediately on guard. His claws and teeth slid out, his eyes glowing as he listened for any sounds. Up stairs he heard a whimper that sounded like Stiles. Scott ran up the stairs, bursting into his best friends bed room only to find it empty. 

A slap-slap-slap sound was getting louder and Scott ran to the only other closed door, throwing it open. He immediately slapped his hand over his eyes and stumbled out of the room and half fell down the stairs in the rush to get out of the house. Derek was just pulling up to the house with the other pack members in the car wanting to see Stiles back from college. Scott waved his hands frantically.

“Do not go in there! Surprise cancelled. Turn around while you still can!” Scott warned as Derek opened his car door.

“What’s wrong,” Derek growled.

“You know that thing with the Sheriff and Stiles that we never talk about?” Scott waited for a nod. “It’s happening. Right now! Get out of here,” Scott called back already running for it.

Derek’s face paled as he slammed the door back shut, gunning the engine until all that was left of his presence was a black strip of tire on the pavement.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this pretty quick and didn't read it through that well when finished. If you see any problems let me know please? Otherwise, just let me know what you think.


End file.
